


Not to be Trusted

by Old FF Stuff (VergofTowels)



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Ficlet, Gen, Incest, M/M, Only one contains major character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-06
Updated: 2013-05-05
Packaged: 2017-12-10 13:23:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/786500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VergofTowels/pseuds/Old%20FF%20Stuff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the morning, Loki has gone.</p><p>There's only one figure left standing in the rubble when the smoke and dust clear.</p><p>Thor's shadow spills like blood across the pale tile to fall over the side of the balcony.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Master/ed

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published 3/13/12.

In the morning, Loki has gone.

_Sharp nails dig hard into his back as Loki howls his name again, writhing and sweating and loving every minute of Thor buried deep inside him. When he comes, he cuts Thor's back wide open and there's blood on the sheets. There goes another hotel they will never visit again._

It isn't a surprise, really.

_Panting, lost among the blanket that twists like a living thing at his throat, Thor seeks out his brother's eyes. Loki looks lazy, half-lidded and sated. A snake, digesting. He smirks when he notices Thor, then turns away. Thor hears him get up a minute later but doesn't follow._

This is the way it has always been.

_It isn't Loki's limp that starts him from a half-doze, but the sound of a zipper. He lifts his head. His brother is hunched beside his suitcase, wearing charcoal gray slacks and his own snowy skin. Thor can count his ribs, even in the dark. He wonders if Loki has been eating. He sighs._

From the moment they started, he knew it would end this way.

_Loki doesn't answer any of his questions, but that isn't new. He doesn't even say much. Tired, perhaps. Thor wants to gather him up and throw him back to the bed, hold him down and strike him or kiss him until he lays still for once and speaks his mind for once and stays for once._

Rinse and repeat.

_He's allowed to use tongue before Loki leaves, and Loki lingers in his embrace a little longer than usual. His coat looks brand new; the passport in his pocket is worn almost to scraps. Thor isn't usually awake for this. Loki isn't usually willing. But it doesn't change anything._

In the morning, Loki has gone.


	2. Pyrrhus

There's only one figure left standing in the rubble when the smoke and dust clear. Tony can see the dark silhouette, still against the foggy surroundings, still as a statue. It's a man; the shoulders are broad enough that he can tell that much. He can't make out if it's Thor or his brother. He approaches cautiously, ready to shoot should he need to. Cap is behind him, backing him up.

After a moment, the figure's head rises minutely and turns, looking directly at Tony. It's Loki. There's no way Thor would ever stand like that. So very still, in the smoke and the dust.

"Stand down," Tony calls, targeting Loki's chest. "We have you outnumbered."

He doesn't reply, but slowly raises his horned helmet and settles it atop his raven hair.

Tony flies forward, and now he can see the square, a mass of debris from the surrounding buildings, chunks of ice, and molten asphalt. There's a body lying on the ground. In familiar armor. He realizes that the dust has faded from the air. It's raining.

Loki speaks. "I did this." There's blood on his face, slowly rinsing away. "Thor. Is dead by my hand. Asgard… falls to me."

Tony doesn't want to believe those words, but the cold shock on Loki's face, even as he announces his victory, convinces him more than anything that they are true. He rushes forward to kneel beside the body. Loki doesn't move. Thunder rumbles in the distance and the rain picks up, hissing across the street.

Thor looks bad. He looks dead. Tony's visor is giving him a negative on vital signs.

He suddenly realizes that he's going to kill Loki.

But that's when he hears it. Low, under the rain, but impossibly, hideously clear, Tony hears a shuddering breath. A pinched cry. Behind him, Loki has hunched into himself, horns lowered submissively. He seems small for a god. Small, even, for a man.

Tony closes Thor's eyes and calls SHIELD.


	3. Cusp

Thor drops his wooden sword next to a pillar and throws his hands above his head in a spine-cracking stretch. His shadow spills like blood across the pale tile to fall over the side of the balcony. Behind him, inside the hall, a hundred voices rise together in a deafening roar.

Loki subtly covers his ears and walks up beside his brother.

"They've brought out the boar, I guess," he says. Soon, the warriors will be competing for the best tale, shouting over each other about how many heads they had knocked from Jӧtun shoulders or how many lungs they had crushed and tangled. Loki frowns minutely.

"Yeah, sounds like it," Thor agrees. He drops his arms. Loki can see that he wants to go back inside to sit with the men. Thor loves the accounts of battle. He's almost old enough to accompany their father on hunting trips as it is.

This bothers him.

"Why did you ask me out here?" Thor continues, turning clear blue eyes to meet with green. His yellow hair forms a corona around his face, shining softly. His cheeks are thinning with the beginnings of manhood. He looks more like the king every day.

"Oh," says Loki. He casts his gaze about for a good excuse and settles for the sunset. "I simply thought the clouds looked particularly promising tonight." He strides forward. "Perhaps I should become a falcon and take a closer look?" He lets a smile brighten his face as he peers back over his shoulder.

Thor stands still by the pillar, cross. "You can see clouds whenever you want, Loki. Let's go back."

Loki turns away and sticks a toe into the air. All of Asgard lies beneath him, distant and golden and austere.

 _"Loki."_ Thor sounds angry now. He's nervous. "The storytelling begins. Come away from the edge." He sheathes his sword once more in his belt. Loki hears it rasp against his breeches.

He ends up following his brother back into the din and dark, air heavy with the scents of mead and burned flesh. Thor already looks perkier, seeking out his friends in the crowd. Loki has to stop a sudden urge to reach out, to touch him and pull him back. Back outside, or back to their old shared bedroom, or back to the beginning, he doesn't know. It feels like something is changing.

 _Come away from the edge, Thor._ The words are on the tip of his silver tongue.

Then he blinks, and Thor is gone.


End file.
